Sensible Heels
by Blurtitoutalready
Summary: Kid! Kurt from Burt POV.  Taken from: "I know.  I've known since you were three.  All you wanted for your birthday was a pair of sensible heels."


**"I know. I've known since you were three. All you wanted for your birthday was a pair of sensible heels."**

(_this takes place in the mythical glee-verse where Westerville and Lima are neighboring towns_)

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><p>After Elizabeth was first diagnosed, Burt took some extra shifts at the Westerville branch of the tire shop where he worked. While they considered themselves lucky to have pretty comprehensive health insurance, it didn't cover everything and money was tight. Today, after a long shift replacing catalytic converters and finally switching out snow tires for regular ones after Ohio's unseasonably long winter, he found himself sitting in his truck outside of a department store in downtown Westerville - psyching himself up to go inside.<p>

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><p>Kurt's third birthday was tomorrow. It was kind of amazing, he was growing up so quickly - with work and life and all of their responsibilities it seemed like only yesterday they were bringing him home from the hospital. Now their toddler was still rather small for his age, but so bright and, ever since he'd caught on that mommy was sick, so so serious. So serious in fact that when Elizabeth brought him along to her treatments (with Burt working all the time and neither of their families living close by it was too expensive to always find a babysitter) Kurt would spend his time "reading" the various informational resources stacked up on tables at the doctors office rather than play with any of the toys available.<p>

With all the upheaval and heaviness in their household, Burt and Elizabeth had decided to go all out for Kurt's birthday. Kurt sat down with Kurt on the living room floor the week before where Kurt stacked lego towers as high as he could and asked his son what he'd like for his birthday.

"No." Kurt had answered.

"No?"

"No presents," Kurt said, turning to give his father a look.

"Kurt, buddy it's your birthday soon - everybody get's presents on their birthday. It's okay, really."

"But mommy needs…." Kurt worried his lower lip in his mouth.

"Mommy needs you to enjoy your birthday. We're going to have cake and -" Kurt's eyes lit up at the mention of cake.

"Chocolate cake!" Burt chucked.

"If that's what you want, sure." He paused and stacked a few lego blocks of his own on top of each other. "It's your birthday Kurt, you can have anything you want."

"Anything?" Kurt had asked, suspicious.

"Anything!" Answered Burt before he'd had the chance to really think about the possibilities. Kurt had been silent for a moment, lifting a small hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes and stack a yellow lego at the top of his tower, considering.

After another moment Kurt pushed himself up into a standing position and walked to the side of the couch where Burt and Elizabeth kept magazines piled under a side table. Kurt began haphazardly pulling out magazines, the glossy pages slip sliding out onto the carpet.

"Easy buddy, what're you getting at? There aren't any toy magazines in there."

Kurt turned to his father and offed him a withering look before returning to the magazines, obviously searching for something. The little boy let out an excited shriek when he found his prize and carried the heavy magazine back around the side of the couch to where Burt was still sitting on the floor, rather more occupied with building his own lego castle than the grown man cared to admit.

Kurt pushed the magazine into his hands and Burt looked down at it with widening eyes. The magazine was open to a full page ad with a charcoal grey background and a pair of red women's shoes on it.

"For the woman on the go who wants to be both fashionable and sensible - _Merona Meadow Comfort Mary Jane Heels_ - available in red, black and navy."

"Uh, hmm," Burt sputtered, finally looking up to see an excited, slightly flushed Kurt staring at him.

"Look how shiny they are daddy!"

"Uh, yeah…they are…." Burt cleared his throat. "Kurt, these….these shoes are for grown ups. They're for grown up _ladies_…." Kurt's face fell.

"But….I saw….I saw at the park! A girl had some! Silvery sparkly ones!" He protested.

"Is there something else you want Kurt? _Anything_ else?" Burt tired, glancing around the room nervously. Kurt shook his head solemnly.

"No. It's okay. I don't need anything." Burt threw his head back and rubbed his temples.

Elizabeth called them for dinner a moment later and Kurt seemed to have recovered fine, eating his chicken and mashed potatoes with the same delicate precision he'd exhibited from the first time he'd been allowed to pick up a fork. After his bath, Elizabeth had put him in pajamas and sent him into his room to play for a few minutes before bed.

"How're you feeling?" Burt asked, surveying the dark circles under his wife's eyes.

"Right now, I'm good. It's really the first few days that are the worst, then it's not so bad until it's time for another round." She sighed and eyed Kurt's bedroom door. "Did you ask him what he wants for his birthday?" When Burt squirmed under her gaze she rose an eyebrow at him. "Well?"

"Uh, yeah," he laughed nervously. "Um…I think maybe he's spending too much time with you."

"What do you mean?"

"He wants a pair of high heels." Elizabeth's mouth popped open.

"Oh."

"Yeah. You know, when he wanted that doll for Christmas this year I wasn't really concerned but…women's clothes?"

"What did you tell him?"

"I, uh, I told him they were for grown-up ladies, but he said he saw a little girl at the park with some and….well I don't know, what should we do?"

"Does he want anything else?"

"No."

"Ask him again tomorrow. Maybe he'll have forgotten. At his age he might want a rocketship, or a toy dinosaur or…well, something."

"Okay…." Breathed out Burt, relieved.

"Let's go tuck our little man in, okay?" Elizabeth prompted. Burt nodded and he followed her into Kurt's room.

"Hi mommy! Hi daddy!" Yipped Kurt as soon as they saw them. Burt grinned, Kurt's enthusiasm was infectious.

"Time for bed mon petit prince," whispered Elizabeth, scooping him up and laying him gently into bed.

"Not sleepy…" whined Kurt, though the effect was diminished as he followed the announcement with a yawn.

"What would you like to read tonight?"

"Cinderella!" Answered Kurt readily. Burt watched the two of them from the door way. Burt didn't know much about kids, but Kurt sure was….different. Some of the guys at the shop also had little boys around Kurt's age and none of them wanted to play with dolls or read Cinderella or wear women's shoes. Were they doing something wrong as parents? Burt watched as Kurt listened, enamored, as his mother read aloud.

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><p>Kurt certainly seemed to like this stuff, girly stuff. Burt tried to tell himself it didn't mean anything - Kurt just spent so much time with his mother, surely once he got to school and was around other kids he'd grow out of it - and it wasn't like he didn't like some "boy" things….Kurt loved playing with toy cars and trucks. Burt couldn't wipe the grin off his face the afternoon he'd come home to see Kurt disassembling his toy fire truck so he could "fix it like daddy."<p>

What had been disconcerting for Burt was something Kurt said so casually after an afternoon spent watching _Aladdin_ for the 845 time. Elizabeth's friend Alice was over with her son Jack and Kurt and Jack hadn't had the best afternoon because Kurt didn't like playing guns and Jack didn't like playing trucks so they settled on a movie. Both boys watched with delight as Aladdin, Jasmine and the Genie whizzed across the screen and clapped heartily when Jafar was defeated. After the movie was over and Jack left with his mom Kurt proudly announced his intentions on marrying Aladdin some day.

Elizabeth and and Burt had engaged in a quick, silent conversation with each other in the moment before they responded.

"Kurt you can't marry Aladdin," started Elizabeth. Kurt's brow furrowed unhappily.

"Why not? He's nice and brave and I love him."

"I know sweetie….but Aladdin is married to Jasmine, remember? They look very happy together." Kurt wrinkled his nose.

"Oh, okay."

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><p>That had been it for that conversation but now, with everything, Burt couldn't help but wonder. He was almost too afraid to even say the words in his head….but the question nipped at his brain. He loved Kurt, he'd do anything for him, but….if Kurt was <em>that way<em> Burt wasn't sure he could handle that. He imagined a teenager Kurt, getting picked on at school, he worried about hateful people. He worried about himself and how he'd react if Kurt brought home a boy from school. Thank God he had Elizabeth to help him.

"And Cinderella and Prince Charming lived happily forever after," Elizabeth finished softly, rubbing her thumb gently along Kurt's cheek. Kurt sighed happily.

"That's nice mommy."

"Mhmm."

"Mommy?"

"Yes sweetheart…"

"I really want those red shoes for my birthday…the ones I showed daddy?"

Elizabeth glanced at her husband, who gave a jerky nod of his head.

"Okay honey. Bedtime now. I love you." She and Burt each gave Kurt a kiss and then switched off the light and left the room.

"I guess I'm getting the shoes…." Burt began hesitantly after they closed the door.

"Not grown-up sized ones though, he'll trip and get hurt. Make sure you get his size."

"How on Earth am I supposed to know what size girls shoes my son wears?" Burt wondered aloud, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. Elizabeth laughed and came in for a kiss.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

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><p>Which is how Burt Hummel found himself in his truck outside of a department store in Westerville, Ohio - trying to psyche himself up into going inside and buying a pair of sparkly red Mary Jane's for his son to wear. Oh God.<p>

Okay, he could do this. For the past six days Kurt had chattered away about nothing else but the shoes, how pretty they were, how much he liked sparkles, how _excited_ he was to get them on his birthday. They hadn't seen Kurt that excited about anything since he first picked up on the fact that mommy was too tired to play most of the time. Weird or not, there was no way Burt was going to deny his child something that made him so happy.

Alright, it was decided. Burt killed the engine to his truck, unbuckled his seat belt and got out. The sun was just starting to dip in the sky, Kurt and Elizabeth were probably eating dinner now, Burt's would be waiting for him in the refrigerator like it always was on days he worked late. The doors to the department store whirred open and let him inside to the artificial glow and indescribable background music he associated with chain stores.

His feet carried him to the children's shoes section on autopilot. Turning down a bright pink aisle Burt couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Row after row of sparkly, glittery, bedazzled, embellished shoes stared back at him. That morning, one last time, he'd asked Kurt what he wanted for his birthday.

"Daddy!" Kurt admonished, thinking Burt's memory wasn't very good. "I want a pair of sensible heels. Like the red Mary Jane's in that magazine. They're very beautiful and fashionable. Red ones!"

"Okay, red ones, got it," Burt answered, letting Kurt lean forward to place his worn baseball cap onto his head.

"With sparkles!" Kurt cried as Burt left.

The problem was, it seemed there were several options of Red Sparkly Mary Jane's.

"Crap," mumbled Burt under his breath. He bounced uncomfortably on the heels of his feet. He should just pick one and be done with it.

"Wow," breathed a small voice from a few feet away from him. Burt was so startled he nearly fell over. Clutching his chest he turned and looked to his left.

A small boy, no older than Kurt but maybe a hair or two taller, stared with a fixed gaze at same section of shoes Burt had been struggling over. Burt's expression softened as he took in the small fellow; the little guy was dressed like he was ready for church and had olive skin and dark curly hair that someone had obviously tried to tame with a generous amount of gel.

"You, uh, like those?" Burt asked, feeling like it was probably really inappropriate to engage a kid in conversation when he was a stranger but unable to stop himself.

"So pretty," whispered the little boy with a reverent nod Burt backed away by a foot or so to give the little guy some room. Well, apparently Kurt wasn't the only three year old boy in the world head over heels, literally, about sparkly shoes.

"Blaine!" Called an annoyed sounding voice from the aisle over. The little boy - Blaine - shoulder's stiffened considerably at the sound. He looked over his shoulder but couldn't seem to peel himself away from the shoes. He picked one up and cradled it in his hand.

"Blaine!" The voice screeched again, a buttoned-up woman with a sour expression on her face whipped around the corner. Blaine had barely looked up when she grabbed his hand roughly and started pulling him along. The shoe fell out of his grasp and hit the floor with a small clang. Blaine's mom finally seemed to notice Burt backed up against the opposite wall of shoes and she gave him a falsely cheery smile.

"Blaine apologize for bothering the nice man!"

"Oh, no he's fine!" Stammered Burt. "I'm just…uh…" The woman didn't pay him any mind, choosing instead to drag Blaine by the hand down the aisle.

"How many times, Blaine? How many times? Those shoes are for girls! Girls! You are a boy!" Blaine hung his head and followed his mom. He chanced one last glance up at Burt before they rounded the corner.

Shame. Burt recognized the look on the little boys face immediately. It socked him hard right in the gut. Right then he knew he _never_ wanted to make his son feel that way - never. He picked up the little red shoe Blaine dropped on the ground and found it's pair. Placing them into the box he picked it up and hurried to the register, ignoring the cheery cashier praising him for his "bravery" and how she was sure his little girl would love the shoes he picked out.

The look on Kurt's face the next morning when he unwrapped the box was all Burt needed to know he'd made the right decision.

_Fin_

_****_**Reviews are appreciated and flailed over!**


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